


Extending the Olive Branch

by emeraldsage85



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldsage85/pseuds/emeraldsage85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JK Rowling says Harry and Dudley are on "Christmas card terms". Here's how it may have started.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extending the Olive Branch

On a bright, sunny Saturday morning Dudley makes his way downstairs with one hand cupping his aching head. It was probably a bad idea to go out drinking with his housemates last night but still, he’s not complaining. He managed to score the number of a pretty blond girl named Stephanie, which he’s keeping in his wallet until he can work up the nerve to give her a call. 

Dudley yanks open a nearby cupboard and pulls out a box of cereal. He knows his mother would be horrified at the thought of him not having a hot breakfast but what he doesn’t tell her won’t hurt her, right? He yawns vociferously and scratches an itch in a rather _delicate_ place while snickering; something else she wouldn’t approve of, especially in the kitchen. 

A sudden tapping on the window startles him and snaps him out of his alcohol-induced morning stupor. It’s a large brown and white owl and it’s pecking at the glass. 

“What the-“ Dudley is momentarily stunned.

The last time he saw an owl do something like that was when – wait, never mind. Best not to think of _those people_ like his father has always told him. Dudley turns away and begins to pour cereal into a bowl. Maybe if he ignores it it’ll go away. The bird, however, is not to be deterred. It continues with a steady tap, tap, tap against the window pane. Finally Dudley gets annoyed. He flings open the window and makes a vague shooing motion with his arm.

“Get lost!” he snaps.

The bird takes that as its cue to hop through the window and perch itself on the ledge with one foot stuck out. There’s a rolled up paper tied to its leg, which Dudley regards curiously but doesn’t touch. He doesn’t want to admit it but he’s sort of afraid of the ruddy thing due to its pointy beak and razor sharp talons. The owl hops again impatiently and sticks its leg out a little further with a loud screech.

“Shh!” Dudley hisses. 

If any of his housemates get woken up they’ll be extremely sore with him, not to mention confused as to why there’s an owl in the kitchen. Gingerly, and with trembling fingers, Dudley unties the paper from the owl’s leg and snatches it away as if he’s been burned. 

“Go on, get!” he says, waving the bird away.

The owl doesn’t move; it just sits there staring at him with those creepy yellow eyes boring into his soul. Upstairs a door slams and Dudley makes the lame shooing motion with his arm again to no effect.

“Hey Dud, have you seen my keys? I dunno where I left them last night,” Piers calls down the stairs.

Dudley spots Piers’ keys lying on the kitchen counter and feels a cold sweat break out on his forehead. 

“Have you tried the loo?” he calls up the stairs.

Relief floods him as he hears Piers’ footsteps heading away from the staircase. He jabs a finger at the idiot bird and makes what he hopes is his angriest face.

“You! Leave! Now!” he says through gritted teeth. 

The owl doesn’t budge an inch and hoots as if to spite him. 

“Right, that it’s it. You asked for it you stupid pigeon,” Dudley mutters as he goes hunting for the nearest owl-chasing object.

All he can come up with is a broom that somebody left near the pantry. Not wanting to be on the receiving end of the owl’s talons, he stands back as far as possible. He gently brushes the owl’s chest but all it does is ruffle its feathers in indignation.

“Are you sure my keys aren’t down there?” Piers calls again.

“No, haven’t seen them,” Dudley yelps.

Footsteps sound on the staircase and he panics. He gives the owl a hard shove with the broom, stuffing it backwards out the window to land in an untidy heap in the back garden where it begins screeching like its being murdered. Dudley rushes to slam the window shut to muffle the sound.

“What are you doing with the broom?” Piers asks from the doorway.

“Cleaning,” Dudley says hastily.

“On a Saturday morning? You’re barking,” Piers mutters.

“I, uh, found your keys. I put them on the counter for you. Goin’ anywhere good?” Dudley says as a way of diverting attention from himself.

“Nah, just to the store to pick up some cigs. Want anything?” 

“Nope,” Dudley says.

Piers’ beady eyes flicker to the rolled up bit of paper still clutched in Dudley’s hand and he gulps nervously, knowing he’s been caught out.

“What’s that?” Piers asks, gesturing to the scroll.

“I dunno. It was in the letterbox,” Dudley lies smoothly.

“Well? Aren’t you going to open it? It’s obviously not a bill so maybe it’s something good,” Piers says.

With no conceivable way of distracting his friend, Dudley is forced to slide the ribbon off the end and unroll the scroll.

“Anything interesting?” Piers asks.

For a moment Dudley scans the calligraphy written in emerald green ink.

“It’s a…wedding invitation,” he says.

“For who? Ain’t nobody we know who’s shacked up let alone gettin’ married,” Piers says.

“It’s from my cousin,” Dudley mutters with some trepidation, mostly related to the fact that he and Piers never talk about Harry in friendly terms.

Besides, the idea that Harry would invite him is preposterous and must be some ridiculous joke. Truth be told, Dudley never expected to hear from him again after they were forced into hiding by _those people_ for a year.

“That tosser?” Piers snorts, “Who’d want to marry him?”

“Well apparently somebody named ‘Ginevra’ does,” Dudley says with a shrug. 

Piers eyes him dubiously for a moment like he’s going to accuse Dudley of having him on but then says, “You’re not thinking of going, are you?”

“Why not? Weddings are the best place to get free booze and pick up available birds!” Dudley says.

“You’re a pig Dud. I’m goin’ out,” Piers chuckles.

As he turns to leave Dudley teases, “This says I can bring a date. Fancy going along?”

“Fuck you,” Piers shoots back good-naturedly and they both grin. 

As soon as his friend is out the door Dudley peruses the scroll again and finds an untidy, manly scrawl at the bottom. Harry has included directions on how to RSVP using the regular post office along with driving directions to some place called “The Burrow”. Dudley rummages around in a junk drawer, throwing aside bits of string, a repair kit for Gordon’s glasses, and a birthday card from last year before finally locating a pen. He rolls out the scroll once more and marks ‘yes’ on the RSVP.


End file.
